


Ella Raven

by EllsKay



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Basically Baz is Cinderella, Boy to girl transformation, Christmas Ball, Dancing, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Potions, Scheming, because why not, it just sort of happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-12-25 08:59:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12032559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllsKay/pseuds/EllsKay
Summary: Baz is tired of hopelessly pining after Simon, so he decides to do something about it. But there's one problem - Simon is straight. (Right?) So Baz decides to take a potion that will turn him into a girl for one night in order to steal one kiss from his Prince Charming.But what happens when Simon finds out the truth about the mysterious Ella Raven that stole his heart?





	1. Potion

**Author's Note:**

> Well. I don't have much to say about this fic. The idea just popped into my head one day and for some reason I had to write it. Anyway, I thought it would be fun.  
> I hope you enjoy it :)

**BAZ**

I’m growing desperate.

It’s my last year at Watford, and the oblivious dolt that’s currently sleeping on the bed opposite mine still hates me. And he still thinks _I_ hate _him_.

Seriously, he’s such an idiot, I don’t even know why I’m so infatuated with him.

He stirs a little in his sleep and now he’s facing me. There’s a streak of moonlight creeping in through the gap between the curtains and it lands on his peaceful face, making his curls shine golden and his moles stand out even more on his tawny skin.

_Oh._ I swallow. _That’s why._

I don’t think I can do this anymore. Having him so close and not being able to touch him. (If you don’t count the occasional punch.) Pretending I hate him. Pretending I’m not hopelessly in love with him.

I don’t want much. It’s not like I want to date him or anything. (Of course I do. But like I said, I’m desperate. I’ll take anything.) I just want a kiss. Just something real to fantasize about for once. Or maybe, if I finally kiss him, it’ll be out of my system and then I’ll be able to get over him. (Not very likely, but one can only hope.)

But he would never kiss me. I’m Baz Pitch. The vampire. The villain. His arch-enemy.

Not to mention a boy. And Snow is a thousand percent straight.

If only I could be who he wants me to be. Just for one night. Just long enough to steal that kiss.

An idea starts taking form in my head. It’s crazy. Utterly desperate.

But I’ve got nothing to lose anymore.

I slip out of bed soundlessly and head for the library.

* * *

 

“You look like shit,” says Dev at breakfast.

“Thanks,” I mutter. I keep staring at Snow, who’s sitting with Bunce a few tables to the right. At the moment, he’s shoveling so many scones in his mouth I wonder how they fit. I suppress a smile. If all goes well, by tomorrow I will have stolen that kiss.

I didn’t sleep at all last night. I stayed in the library until four in the morning and then I headed to the Catacombs, where I started working on the potion. I will finish it right after the lessons end today.

“Wellbelove is staring at you,” says Niall.

I turn my head and find her seated at the table right next to ours. She immediately averts her gaze, blushing. I roll my eyes.

“She probably expects you to ask her to go to the Christmas Ball with you,” says Niall.

“Well, she can keep dreaming.”

Dev arches an eyebrow. “Why? Now that she’s broken up with Snow, you have a clear shot at her.”

“She bores me. I only flirted with her to mess with Snow.”

“She’s really cute, though,” argues Niall.

It’s hard not to scoff. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to the ball, anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I don’t feel like it,” I snap. Seriously, have they always been so annoying? I stand from my seat. “See you guys in class.”

**SIMON**

Baz is up to something.

Of course, that doesn’t say much. Baz is _always_ up to something. But this is different. Because this time he has his aunt Fiona helping him.

I saw them from the window of our room. She was handing him some kind of package and giving him hushed instructions. Then he stalked off and his aunt followed him, smiling deviously.

They were probably plotting to take down the Mage. I wanted to follow them, to figure out what they were planning, but I had to get ready for the ball.

Now I’m really regretting that decision.

As I’m walking towards the dining hall where the Christmas Ball is being held, all I can think about is Baz and his plotting. What was in that package? Some kind of weapon to take down the Mage? Or maybe me?

The uncertainty drives me crazy. But it’s too late now. Crowley only knows where he went. I can’t actually search the whole place to find him. (I’m quite tempted to try, though.)

I spot Penny in the hall sitting at an empty table and I quickly join her.

She raises an eyebrow when she sees me. Then she sighs. “What now?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve got that look again. The _Baz-is-plotting-again-and-I-have-to-know-what_ look.”

I scowl. “It’s not my fault he’s plotting all the time.”

Penny rolls her eyes. “You mean like in fifth year?”

“He _was_ plotting something in fifth year! He almost stole my voice!”

“That hasn’t been proven.”

“Oh, so it’s a coincidence Philippa Stainton lost her voice when I was with Baz.”

She groans. “It’s my fault for bringing it up.”

I want to protest, but then I spot Agatha and my breath hitches. She is sitting alone at another table, looking like an angel in that white dress of hers. I want to go to her, talk to her, try to get her to change her mind about the break-up, but her eyes that are glued to the door, looking expectant and hopeful, stop me.

“Well, at least _one_ of his schemes worked,” I say glumly. I shake my head. “I can’t believe we just broke up and she’s already trying to get together with him.”

“You don’t know that that’s what she’s trying to do,” says Penny patiently. “And, anyway, maybe you should do the same, too.”

“What, try to get together with Baz?” I tease her.

She punches my arm playfully. “I mean you should move on! Come on, don’t tell me you’re going to sulk all night!”

“What do you want me to do?”

“We’re at a ball, Simon. And people at balls dance, flirt, meet people. They don’t _sulk_.”

“You want me to flirt?” I look at her like she’s lost her mind.

“Why is that so hard to wrap your head around?”

“Because- Because-” I shake my head. “Who would I flirt with, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” says Penny, exasperated. “Look around. If you see someone you like, go and talk to her.”

I look around, but no one catches my attention. My eyes keep coming back to Agatha, with her pale blond hair, the pearly white skin and the golden-brown eyes.

Who could possibly compare to her?

Suddenly, Penny smacks my arm.

“Ow!” I exclaim. “What was that for?”

“To get your attention. Look.”

I follow her gaze towards the door. I gasp.

Standing at the doorway is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. She has silky black hair falling loosely on her shoulders and magnetizing grey eyes. Her features are sharp and striking in a way you simply cannot ignore. Her skin is really pale, but her cheeks are a little flushed, and she’s wearing a short black dress that looks both elegant and sexy. But even sexier than her dress is the way that she smirks and holds her body up with confidence, like she knows exactly how beautiful she looks right now and isn’t going to be modest about it.

Her gaze scans the dining-hall-turned-ballroom like she’s looking for someone. Then her eyes meet mine.

I’m pretty sure I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

**BAZ**

I have to admit – I had my doubts about asking Fiona to pick my clothes. I was afraid she would bring me the kind of clothes she wears – black leather, chains, that sort of thing. I would hate to come to the ball to kiss Snow dressed like a punk.

But she came through just fine. More than fine, actually. I look really good in the dress she got me. She even helped me with my make-up. And she laughed only half of the time it took to make me look presentable. I think she’s actually a little proud of the lengths I’m prepared to go to to get what I want. She probably thinks I got that craziness from her.

I didn’t tell her who I’m trying to seduce, though. If Fiona knew that I did all of this to kiss the Mage’s Heir… Well. She definitely wouldn’t be as supportive.

Anyway, it’s thanks to her that I look so good tonight and I allow myself to smirk as I see all eyes turn to me when I enter the hall. But I only care about one person.

I search the place with my eyes until I spot him sitting with Bunce. (He’s really stunning in his white suit, even if doesn’t fit him exactly right.) And he’s looking right at me.

My smirk grows wider and cockier. His jaw has dropped to the floor and he’s staring at me with eyes as round as saucers. I indulge myself a little longer before I turn my gaze away and head to one of the empty tables.

I don’t look at him again for a long time. If I do, I probably won’t be able to resist the temptation to go talk to him. I decided that, after everything I’ve done to get his attention, the least he can do is come talk to me himself.

Almost an hour passes and nothing happens. (If you don’t count pretty much _everyone else_ coming over to hit on me. And me rejecting every single one of them.) I take out a fag from my purse and light it. Smoking calms me a little. (Even thought it _really_ shouldn’t, considering I’m flammable.)

What if he _doesn’t_ come? What if he’s still so attached to Wellbelove that he can’t even bring himself to talk to the most beautiful girl in the room? (I’m not even going to feign modesty. I’ve just drunk a potion to turn into a girl so that the guy I’m obsessed with will notice me. My dignity is bruised enough – I _need_ the confidence boost.)

What if all my efforts turn out to be futile?

**SIMON**

I can’t stop staring at her. From the moment she entered the hall I haven’t managed to take my eyes off her for a second. And ever since that moment our eyes locked, she hasn’t looked at me once.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” says Penny, exasperated. “Just go talk to her!”

“What?” I say incredulously, like she just suggested proposing to the Humdrum. “Are you crazy?”

“You’re not going to get very far with her just by staring!”

I shake my head. “Didn’t you see how she rejected everyone else? She made Gareth cry! I’m pretty sure he’s still at the bathroom weeping!”

“Well, good thing you’re not Gareth.”

“Penny, this girl is _way_ out of my league.”

She rolls her eyes. “Simon, you’re the _Chosen One_. You’re the Mage’s Heir and the most powerful mage that has ever lived. Not to mention handsome and with a heart of gold. If she’s out of _your_ league, then in whose league could she possibly be?”

“I don’t know,” I say bitterly. “Baz’s?”

Another eye-roll. “Well, Baz isn’t here. So there goes your competition.”

I frown. I have been so fixated on the girl that I didn’t even notice that Baz hasn’t shown up to the ball.

That settles it. He’s definitely up to something.

“No,” says Penny firmly.

“What?” I ask, puzzled.

“No thinking about Baz. Seriously, this is getting ridiculous. Just focus on the girl.”

I sigh. “You’re going to keep pestering me until I go talk to her, aren’t you?”

She smirks. “You know me so well.”

I finish my drink and stand up. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves that have twisted into a knot at the bottom of my stomach, and I walk towards her table like I’m going to face the Humdrum for our final battle.

As I’m getting nearer, I’m getting even more nervous. This girl just looks so… _superior_ with her unmatched beauty and her uncaring confidence. Her expression looks bored and taunting at the same time, like she’s daring me to disturb her. And she isn’t even looking at me.

When I reach her table my legs stop. I have no idea what to say to her, which doesn’t matter because my throat’s so dry I don’t think I’d be able to speak anyway.

I’m considering turning around and bolting, but then she lifts her gaze to meet mine and I freeze.

Her face slowly breaks into a pleased and smug grin.

“Well, it was about time,” she says.

“Um…” I respond eloquently. I don’t even remember my own name anymore.


	2. Dance

**BAZ**

I had just started to freak out when I realized there was someone looming over me.

I was pretty sure it was another loser wanting to hit on me, so I’m ready to snap at them. But then I see that he is _my_ loser. 

I’m so relieved that I smile. It comes out more like a smirk. (It’s probably automatic. Maybe that’s all the muscles on my face can muster. In this case, it’s probably for the best. The last thing I need is for Snow to think I’m completely lovesick.) (Which I am, but he doesn’t need to know that, does he.)

“Well, it was about time,” I say.

“Um…”

I’m trying really hard not to grin like an idiot. I’m probably an expert in making Snow lose his words, but it’s usually through making him so angry that his fists are the only way he can possibly communicate. I’ve never managed _this_ before and it’s beyond pleasing.

Not to mention how cute he looks this flustered.

“Are you going to sit or will you be standing there like an idiot all night?” I ask with an arched eyebrow.

“Huh?” He blinks, like he’s coming out of a daze. “Oh!” He blushes furiously. “Yeah! I am! I mean I will! If you want me to, I mean!”

I can’t help it. I grin. “I just _asked_ you to sit, moron.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but he manages to blush even more. He pulls out a chair opposite me and sits.

I bring the (fifth for tonight) fag on my lips and suck the smoke as I wait for him to say something. Snow is just staring at me. I cock an eyebrow at him.

He laughs nervously. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s just. You’re- I mean, you look-” He takes a breath to stop his rambling and tries again. “Good. You look really good.”

I smirk. “Why, thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

He smiles sheepishly. “I’m Simon Snow.”

“I know who you are.” I extend my hand. “Ella Raven.”

That’s right. Tonight I’m Cinderella.

And my idiotic prince had better kiss me before midnight because I’m not leaving a glass slipper behind.

**SIMON**

I shake her hand. It’s cold, but also really smooth with long slender fingers.

“You’re not a Watford student, are you?” I say. I’m sure I would have noticed her if she was – she is not easy to ignore. And it’s not like these balls are exclusive only for Watford students. These events are a chance to bring our community closer, so others attend as well.

“No, I was home-schooled,” she says and puts out her fag on the ashtray.

I frown. “Why?”

“Because my parents didn’t want anything to do with the war between the Mage and the Families, so they decided it would be better to keep our distance from the magickal world.”

“So how come you’re here tonight?”

“My father wants me to meet people. He might not want to get involved in the politics of the magickal world, but he still wants his grandchildren to be magickal. And that can only happen if I marry a mage.” She rolls her eyes.

I frown. “I didn’t see you trying to meet people.”

She laughs. “I said he wanted me to. I never said I was feeling up to the task. Besides, I haven’t encountered a single interesting person here.” She smirks at me. “Well, until now.”

I blush again. Just how much am I capable of blushing? “So, you didn’t know anyone else here before tonight?”

“Like I said, we like to keep our distance from the magickal world, so we don’t know many people. Well, except maybe for the Pitches. I was hoping I’d see Basilton here, but he hasn’t shown.”

“Baz?” I say, incredulously. “You know Baz?”

Of course she does. Everyone knows Baz.

“Oh, yes, we’ve met before a few times.” There’s a playfull glint in her eyes. “And we talked a lot about you, actually.”

_Shit._

“Really,” I say, trying to conceal my dread. What has he told her about me?

Ella smiles crookedly. “Oh, yes. He gave me this endless rant about what a terrible roommate you are.”

 _“What?”_ I can’t believe my ears. “ _I_ am a terrible roommate?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Well, he didn’t tell you about how terrible _he_ is, did he? Do you know he’s tried to kill me? Three times! And he tried to steal my girlfriend! And not to mention the time he…”

And that’s how _my_ endless rant about Baz started.

**BAZ**

I’m enjoying this _way_ too much.

I know I shouldn’t. I should be focusing on getting Snow to kiss me. But this is so much fun.

I mean, come on. He’s talking to the most beautiful girl in the room and he blows his chance to woo her because he’s too busy talking about me. (Or rather he _would_ , if the girl he was talking to didn’t happen to be _me_.) I just love the idea that I can sabotage his chances to flirt with other girls without even having to be around (seemingly).

And, of course, I love the fact that he’s so obsessed with me. Even if it isn’t for the reasons I would have liked.

“-and he won’t even admit it!” he is saying now. “To this day, he still won’t admit that he pushed me down the stairs on purpose.”

 _Well, that’s because I_ didn’t _do it on purpose,_ I’m thinking, but I don’t say anything. I just let him rant about all the ways I’m ruining his life, grinning inwardly.

Now he’s talking about Wellbelove.

“And now he finally did it! He finally stole my girlfriend! And now they’re going to get married and live in huge mansions and have lots of pale kids!”

“Are you sure about that?” I speak for the first time.

“What? Do you think vampires can’t have kids?”

“No, not that. Are you sure he _stole_ your girlfriend?”

“ _What?_ Of course I’m sure! Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“Well, for one, I don’t see them together. And also,” I say, frowning, “I’m pretty sure he’s gay.”

**SIMON**

I choke on my drink. I start coughing so hard that my eyes tear up. Ella hits me on the back to help me breathe again.

Finally, I manage to speak again.

 _“What?”_ I say, voice high-pitched with shock. “How- Why- What makes you _say_ that?”

“Well, for one, he didn’t flirt with _me_ ,” she says nonchalantly. “And, as far as I know, he hasn’t shown any interest in _any_ girl.”

The truth is I have never seen Baz flirt with anyone other than Agatha. I don’t even think he’s ever dated anyone. Which is weird. I mean, he could have _any_ girl. (I would never acknowledge this out loud, but it’s true.)

“But- But-” I stumble on the words. “But then why did he try _so_ hard to break me and Agatha up?”

She lights another fag and I take another sip from my drink. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s _you_ he’s interested in?”

I almost spit my drink at her face.

**BAZ**

I know I’m playing with fire. But I’m a Pitch. Fire runs through my veins. Playing with fire is what I do.

And, besides, it’s not like there’s actually any real danger here. It’s _Snow_ we’re talking about. He could still be oblivious to the truth even if it was dancing in front of him naked.

I laugh at the thought.

And, of course, Snow, who has just recovered from choking on his drink _again_ , misinterprets that and laughs as well.

“You know, you almost had me there for a second,” he says, wiping tears from his eyes. “Imagine that, Baz _in love_ with me.”

I laugh even harder because, _Crowley_ , he’s an idiot.

“Well,” I say, in between fits of laughter. “At least he wouldn’t need to worry about his feelings not being reciprocated.”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Snow, we’ve been talking for,” I look at my watch, “thirty five minutes. And you’ve been talking about Baz for _thirty two_ minutes.”

“Yeah, complaining about him!” he protests, his face flushed.

“Snow, you’re obsessed.”

“No, I’m not!” His face turns an even more violent shade of red.

“Mh-mmm,” I say, sounding distinctly unconvinced. I have to try really hard not to burst out laughing again. This is so much fun it should be illegal. (It probably is.)

“I hate him,” he insists.

“Whatever you say,” I say and the corner of my lips quirks up.

He shakes his head. “Can we talk about anything other than Baz?”

I smirk. “Sure, if you can control yourself.”

**SIMON**

I open my mouth to protest, but she interrupts me before I can say anything. “So, Snow, what would you like to talk about instead?”

“Simon,” I say dumbly.

“Well, that’s a little self-centered,” she remarks.

I blush. “I didn’t- I meant- You keep calling me Snow. I’d prefer it if you called me Simon.”

“Why?”

“Well, Simon is more… intimate,” I say, smiling sheepishly. I don’t add that her calling me Snow reminds me of Baz – I’ve talked about him enough for the night. (Penny would be so proud of my self-control.) However, she smirks at me in a way that makes me think she knows exactly what I’m thinking about.

She leans closer (really close) and I stop breathing. “So… _Simon_ ,” she says in my ear in a low, seductive voice that makes me shiver (visibly, judging by her smirk). “What would you like to talk about?”

“I-” I can’t even remember my name at the moment.

She leans back and quirks an eyebrow, still smirking. “Simon?” she says, taking a drag from the fag.

I blink. “Yes?” She blows the smoke slowly and I’m mesmerized. How can someone look so hot smoking?

I pray to every deity I know of that my face isn’t as red as I feel it.

“Would you like to suggest any topics to discuss?”

“What- Oh! Yes!”  

I end up asking her something about the weather, which greatly amuses her. But still, she answers. She actually manages to start an interesting conversation about the _weather_ – the _least_ interesting topic for discussion. And I realize I enjoy talking with her immensely. Her witty and sharp tongue, her sarcasm and her humor, it makes talking with her interesting and fun. You just can’t get bored with her.

I can’t wrap my head around just how perfect she is. Breathtakingly beautiful, funny and so fucking smart. (I can’t believe she’s interested in _me_ of all people.)

Can someone fall in love that soon?

**BAZ**

I know the objective was to kiss Snow, but I find myself enjoying talking with him too much to mind that it hasn’t happened yet. He’s still an idiot, but an impossibly endearing one, and he makes me laugh and feel as giddy as a schoolgirl on her first date. (Which isn’t that far from the truth – I _am_ a schoolgirl at the moment, and this _is_ my first date.)

But the minutes are ticking by and soon the potion will wear off. I have to get that kiss. I mean, I didn’t drink all those rats for nothing. (I drank twelve of them. _Twelve_. Just to make sure I wouldn’t bite him. I have to honor their deaths, right?)

“Let’s dance,” I say out of the blue.

He blinks. “I- Um… I’d love to, but-” He blushes. “I’m not a very good dancer.”

I smirk. “I’ll lead.”

He blushes even more, but he nods. I stand and take his hand and then we make our way to the dance-floor. I start to put my hand on his shoulder, but then the slow romantic song is over and something really upbeat starts to play.

I smother the urge to groan. A slow dance would have been a perfect way to work my way to the kiss.

Snow looks just as put out as I feel. “I- I can only slow dance… Sort of.”

I roll my eyes. “Just loosen up and follow the rhythm. Like this.”

It actually takes me a full minute to figure out how to dance in a feminine way, but then it comes easily. Snow, however, is a lot less graceful. He moves awkwardly and disjointedly and his face becomes even redder as low chuckles come from the people around us. He stops moving and looks at me pleadingly. “Ella, can we-”

I’m ready to give in and go sit back down with him. It’s painful to watch him get humiliated. But then I clench my jaw and grab his hands. I won’t let anyone ruin this night.

I start dancing in a silly, ridiculous way – the way you dance when you’re alone, when you can just unwind and let go and be as silly and free as you want.

“What are you doing?” asks Snow, bewildered.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I say, laughing. “I’m dancing.”

“That doesn’t look like dancing,” he says, the corners of his lips tugging up in amusement.

“Shut up and dance with me.”

He stares at me for a few seconds and I think that I’ve creeped him out. But then he laughs in a way that makes his face light up and starts dancing in his own ridiculous – and absolutely endearing – way. We go on like this, being crazy and silly together, just dancing and laughing, and I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun in my life.

It’s just so liberating being someone else for one night. Not having to be Baz Pitch just for a few hours. Not having to be cruel, sarcastic and _straight_. I can just be silly and talk and dance and laugh with Snow – with _Simon_.

I’m free. And it’s _wonderful_.

**SIMON**

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

I know just how ridiculous we must look to everyone else right now. And I find that I simply cannot bring myself to care. I forget about everyone and everything else – the war, the Humdrum, the Families. All I can see is her. If I thought she was beautiful before, now she’s simply divine. Her eyes gleam and her cheeks are flushed and her smile is brighter than the swirling lights overhead and it makes me feel so light and giddy and _alive_.

I think I’m in love.

Her eyes – as grey as storm clouds and oddly familiar – meet mine and my breath hitches. Without realizing it, I bring my hand to her cheek. It’s cold and smooth under my fingertips. Something flickers in her eyes. It can’t be… _nervousness?_ But then this small vulnerable spark is gone and it’s replaced with determination. Her hand reaches up as well and tangles itself in my curls, pulling my head forward and connecting our lips.

**BAZ**

I’m.

Kissing.

Simon.

Fucking.

Snow.

**SIMON**

The kiss isn’t what I expected. It isn’t hot or intense or passionate. It’s really timid and hesitant and sweet. It sends waves of warmth from my mouth all the way to my fingertips and my toes and makes butterflies flutter in my stomach. I wrap my arms around her waist and bring her closer, sucking gently at her lips as her hands slide in my curls. Her scent fills my senses – woodsy and comfortably familiar. For some reason, it reminds me of home. (Which is odd, because I don’t have a home. The closest thing I have to a home is my room here at Watford.)

She pulls away a little and our eyes meet. Her gaze is unexpectedly open and warm, with a hint of… wonder? It makes me melt to a puddle on the floor. I smile sheepishly at her and she returns it. I’m ready to kiss her again, but then she looks at her watch and her eyes widen.

**BAZ**

11:57

Shit.

“I’ve got to go,” I say breathlessly.

He blinks. “Oh.” He looks so disappointed that something melts inside me. “Are you sure you can’t stay just a little longer?”

I have to avert my gaze. I can’t say no to him when he looks at me with those puppy-dog eyes. “I’m sorry. My parents are waiting for me.” I give him one last hasty kiss before I bolt.

I reach the Catacombs right on time. It would have been a little embarrassing if anyone caught sight of Baz Pitch in a tight black dress and make-up.

I slip out of the dress numbly and take off the make-up with my wand. I pull on my clothes on auto pilot, my head still spinning.

_I kissed Simon Snow._

I start giggling, feeling positively delirious.

_I kissed Simon fucking Snow!_

**SIMON**

As soon as I fall into bed, I’m certain there’s absolutely no way I’m sleeping tonight. I’m still grinning like an idiot – so broadly that my face fucking hurts. I have never felt like this before. I mean, maybe I felt like this when Agatha and I first started dating, but I’ve never been so smitten with someone I barely even know.

I groan loudly. I can’t believe I didn’t even get her number! I _have_ to see her again. This… This can’t be it.

But she said she didn’t know anyone else here, so there’s no one to ask for her number. Except for…

I look at the bed next to mine. It’s empty. Where the hell is he?

Ella had managed to take my mind off him and his plotting, but now I’m reminded again. He’s up to something and it can’t be good.

I slip out of bed without hesitation. I won’t be able to sleep anyway, so I might as well figure out what Baz is plotting. I have no idea where he is, so I’ll just search every probable place. Starting with the Catacombs.

After navigating the underground tunnels for a few minutes, I hear shouting. I freeze for a second. Is he… _torturing_ someone here?

But as I get closer, I realize it’s _his_ voice. And these aren’t screams of pain. If anything, he sounds… jubilant.

I blink. This can’t be good. If Baz is happy, this can only mean that his nefarious plans against me and the Mage are going well.

I finally reach the room Baz is. I peek around the corner and my jaw drops. Baz is jumping around the room like a kid on a sugar rush, laughing loudly. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are shining and there’s something about his carefree and childlike excitement that makes something inside me flutter sweetly. For some reason I start grinning, but then my eyes land on something black on the floor.

My heart stops.

That’s Ella’s dress. What the hell does he want with Ella’s dress?

Did he hurt her? Or- Or-

Shit. Was she working with him? Was this some kind of plot to seduce me and then… what? Disappear?

It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense.

Baz finally gets tired of jumping around and sits on the floor, giggling. (Yeah, he’s _giggling_ , I’m not making this up.) He lies back on the floor and stares at the ceiling dreamily.

I frown. He’s acting really weird. What the hell’s going on?

His hand reaches up to his mouth and there’s both wonder and disbelief on his face.

“I kissed Simon Snow,” he says quietly, like he can barely believe it.

_What?_

He makes no sense. He must have gone insane.

But as I’m looking at him, at his shiny black hair, his chalk white skin, his sharp cheekbones and his long slender body, a terrible suspicion makes my blood freeze.

_No. It can’t be._

He puts his hand in his pocket and takes out a small vial with traces of a baby blue liquid inside. A potion. Baz looks at it with awe and then he starts giggling again. “I kissed Simon _fucking_ Snow!” he shouts now and his voice echoes in the tunnels and in my head.

Fuck. _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

I turn around and start running away, thinking that, _no_ , there’s _no fucking way_ that Baz was Ella.

There’s _no fucking way_ I kissed Baz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter's been giving me a hard time, so it might be a while before I update this again. Sorry about that :)


	3. Bet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had been giving me a hard time, but miraculously inspiration hit me out of the blue, so I managed to update sooner than I had been planning. So, here it goes :)

**SIMON**

I don’t stop running until I’m back to our room. I close the door and lean against it, breathing heavily.

 _No_. Not possible. Ella was _not_ Baz. Baz was _not_ Ella.

I did _not_ kiss Baz.

I replay the whole evening in my mind and I’m convinced that it wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been. Ella looked like she really enjoyed my company.

But...

What if it was just an act? What if this was some scheme of Baz’s to play with my head? To drive me crazy? Because if it is, it’s probably working.

Fuck. I was falling for _Baz_.

_Fuck._

I take deep breaths to clear my head. But the moment I kissed her keeps invading my brain and I get lost in the touch of her cold, soft lips brushing mine, in the taste of her mouth, in her scent that reminded me of the forest...

I open my eyes. _Her scent._

I bite my lip nervously, but then I clench my jaw with determination and approach Baz’s bed. I’ve never sat on his bed before, but desperate times…

I sit on it gingerly like I expect it to attack me. (I wouldn’t put it past Baz to place wards on his bed that would activate if I approached it.) Then, cursing this whole situation, I bury my face in his pillow, breathing in his scent. Cedar and bergamot. Ella’s exact scent.

_Fuck._

Somewhere in the back of my mind I realize that this is bad, but at the moment my brain has gone a little fuzzy, overcome by the woodsy smell that reminds me of smooth lips and cold hands on my neck.

Fuck Baz and his posh soap.

Suddenly, the door opens and I sit up, my head spinning and my heart pounding.

Baz is standing at the doorway, staring at me in bewilderment. “What are you doing on my bed?”

“Uh…” I didn’t really hear what he was saying. I was too busy staring at him. At his raven hair that’s framing his face, at his smooth white skin that looks like it’s been carved from marble, at his lips…

 _No_. I’m not looking at his lips.

He’s now standing right in front of me. “Snow. Get off my bed.”

“What?” I say, dumbly.

“Get off my bed.”

I manage to snap out of it. “No,” I say. I don’t know why. I’m just angry at him all of a sudden and I don’t mind being petty about it.

He huffs, surprised. “No?”

I cross my arms in front of my chest, knowing full well just how childishly I’m acting. “No.”

**BAZ**

I had spent a full minute outside our room, trying to clear my head. I thought Snow would have probably been asleep by now, but still I was nervous about facing him. I knew it would be difficult having to be hostile with him again after the wonderful evening we just had.

After a few deep breaths, I felt confident that I’d be able to face him. Then I opened the door and found him sitting on my bed.

_Simon Snow is on my bed._

_This is not going to be easy_ , I thought.

“What are you doing on my bed?”

“Uh…” was all he said, eloquent as always.

_Shit. He must be doing this on purpose._

“Snow. Get off my bed.”

“What?”

“Get. Off. My bed.”

He blinked, like he was coming out of a daze. “No.”

 _Oh, fuck._ “No?”

“No.”

I’m staring at him. This idiot is going to be the death of me. I don’t know if I want to kill him or kiss him.

Probably both.

**SIMON**

He looks at me, dumbfounded, and I feel a little triumphant. But then the corner of his lips quirks up. “Fine,” he says.

I frown. “What?” This cannot be good.

“I said fine.” He grins at me mischievously. “But if you’re going to take over my bed, then it’s only fair that I take over yours.” And he goes and sits on my bed.

My mouth drops open. This has never happened before. This is a line we’ve _never_ crossed before. And I can’t complain because I started it. And he _knows_ it.

Tosser.

“Fine,” I say and lie back on his bed.

He looks at me weirdly for a few moments before he mimics me. “Fine.”

**BAZ**

Simon Snow’s sleeping on my bed.

 _And I’m sleeping on_ his.

**SIMON**

He’s asleep now. I wish I could sleep as well, but I can’t. Not with his scent overwhelming my senses, bringing me back to a few hours ago, when I was talking and dancing and kissing the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. And now my bed is going to smell like him, too! I’ll never be able to sleep in this room ever again.

I can see him clearly in the bright light of the moon that’s slipping through the window. His inky black hair spilled all over my pillow, his long dark lashes caressing the skin under his eyes, his sculpted cheekbones, his thin pale lips… And I can’t help but wonder if they would feel just as cold and soft against mine like Ella’s had…

 _Oh, fuck._ I’m definitely losing my mind here. And it’s all his fault.

I just want to know why. Why did he take that potion to turn into a girl and then tried to seduce me?

I could ask him. And then he would laugh at me and tell me that I’d had way too much to drink at the ball.

 _Or_ I could play along. Beat him in his own game.

I grin slyly.

_Oh, it’s on._

**BAZ**

I wake up the next morning feeling surprisingly well-rested. I slept like a baby, enclosed in Simon Snow’s comforting scent.

I yawn and stretch lazily under the covers, ignoring the slight prickling on my skin from the bright sunlight that’s coming through the window. (Snow’s really got to learn to keep the bloody curtains closed in the mornings.)

“Ah! You’re awake!” Snow’s voice is oddly cheerful, so I turn and look at him with my brows furrowed. He’s sitting on my bed casually, like that’s where he belongs. (Ha! In my dreams.) He looks a bit sleep-deprived (did he stay up all night?), but there’s a strange grin on his face that makes me more than a little uncomfortable. Snow _never_ smiles at me.

“Obviously,” I say dryly.

“Good,” he says pleasantly and I frown. What’s up with him?

He stands up and walks over to me. Before I can protest, he’s already sitting on the bed next to me. “Snow, what are you-”

“It’s _my_ bed, isn’t it?” he says dismissively. “Listen, I want to ask you for a favor.”

I sit up, completely dumbfounded. “You want to- _what_?”

He rolls his eyes. “You heard me. Of course, I’ll owe you one.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “So I get a favor in return?”

“Sure. As long as it’s not something outlandish… or evil.”

I huff. “Fine. You got me curious. Tell me what it is you want.”

“So, I met a girl yesterday at the ball,” he says, eyeing me intently.

I keep my face impassive. “And your love life concerns me… why?”

“She said she knew you.”

“I know a lot of people,” I sneer. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

“Her name’s Ella. Ella Raven.”

“Ella?” I snort. “Well, if it’s my advice you want, I suggest giving up. That girl’s _way_ out of your league.”

He scowls at me, and I can feel the anger simmering behind his eyes. “Is she now?” he snarls and for a second I’m relieved. There’s the Simon Snow I know. But then he shakes his head, trying to calm himself down. Well, _that’s_ a first. “Anyway, the joke’s on you because she seemed very interested in me.”

I cock a dubious eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.”

“So, if you guys hit it off, then what exactly do you want from me?”

“Well…” He scratches his neck. “She left a little suddenly yesterday and I didn’t get to ask her for her number…”

“What did you do to make her run?”

He glowers at me. “Nothing. And, in any case, it’s none of your business. Now, the favor I want to ask you is to give me her number.”

I bite my lip. This is tempting. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, just to get one kiss and then move on with my life. But I can’t really walk away from this. I’m too weak.

“I’m not going to give her number to any creep that asks for it,” I say. “But I’ll forward her your number. Then she can choose whether she wants to talk to you or not.”

Snow’s studying my face intently and I try to contain the blush that threatens to reach my face. (I really shouldn’t have had so much blood yesterday.) “Okay,” he says.

He stretches his arm towards his desk and takes a pen from it. Then he grabs my arm. I muffle a gasp and I see that there’s a blush painting his cheeks red, but he doesn’t look at me at all as he scribbles something on my forearm. He lets go of my hand as soon as he finishes writing. “There,” he says and stands from the bed to start getting ready for the last day of class before the holidays. (This year we’re both spending Christmas at Watford – Snow because he broke up with Wellbelove and me because I want to avoid my family’s pressure to get rid of Snow.) (Ugh. The things I do for love.)

I look at the numbers scrawled on my arm with equal amounts of excitement and dread. This is a dangerous game. But it’s worth it. Simon Snow is always worth it.

**SIMON**

It’s late in the evening when my phone (enchanted by Mrs. Bunce to work inside Watford) buzzes. Baz isn’t at our room at the moment, which I consider as further proof to my theory that he’s Ella. I take my phone from my desk and open the text.

_(19:45) Basil told me that you were asking for my number. And I was worried you forgot all about me…_

I feel my face heat up as I type my answer, trying to forget for a little while that it’s Baz I’m flirting with.

_(19:46) after that kiss? how could i forget ;)_

The answer is almost instantaneous.

_(19:46) Aww._

_(19:47) So is that why you wanted to talk to me? To tell me how you much you appreciated our kiss?_

I answer immediately.

_(19:48) no actually i wanted to ask u if u wanted to go on a date with me…_

It’s a full minute before she (he?) answers.

_(19:50) Of course. When are you free?_

_(19:50) how abt tomorrow?_

_(19:51) Sure. What time?_

_(19:51) is 6 ok?_

_(19:52) Alright. Where do you want to go?_

_(19:53) idk. i was thinking coffee? we could meet at a cafe in the village_

_(19:54) Great. Send me the details._

_(19:54) ok :)_

**BAZ**

I had to go all the way to the village to actually text Snow. Which was fine, because this way I got to purchase clothes for tomorrow. (I don’t want to ask Fiona to bring me some again. She will start asking questions and I’d like to avoid that.)

When I get back to Watford it’s already dark. I barely manage to cross the drawbridge before it goes up. Instead of going straight to my room, I go to the Catacombs, where I hide the clothes and then hunt. (I want to be full tomorrow in case I get to kiss Snow again.) Then I start brewing the potion. I don’t finish until four in the morning, but that’s fine, because I can sleep in. I don’t have any lessons today and the date isn’t till six.

When I get back to our room, Snow is lying on his bed but he isn’t sleeping. He doesn’t even pretend to be asleep. As soon as I enter he sits up and glares at me. “Where were you?” he inquires, suspicious as ever.

“None of your business,” I mutter, too exhausted to fight, and get in bed. It smells of him.

Weirdly, Snow doesn’t persist. He just glares at me a little longer and then lies back on his bed, his back turned at me. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, inhaling his scent, and I fall asleep instantly.

**SIMON**

I arrive at the cafe five minutes after six, which is record time for me and my usual tardiness. (Not to mention my nervousness. I mean, _I’m going on a date with Baz._ It doesn’t get weirder than that.)

I scan the cafe until I spot Ella sitting on a couch, looking absolutely _stunning_. Even without makeup or the sexy dress she was wearing at the ball. Which isn’t fair. At all. It makes all of my blood rush to my cheeks and my throat go dry.

 _Dammit!_ I have to get a grip if I’m to pull this off.

She spots me as well and waves at me, a smirk on her enticing lips. All of a sudden, my legs feel like they’re made of jelly, but somehow I force them to move towards her and take a seat across from her.

“Hi,” I say nervously.

“Hello, Simon,” she says, still smirking. _Tosser_. I bet he’s enjoying it immensely, watching me act this flustered. God, I have to get my act together.

“You look really nice today,” I manage to say, even though I’d rather snog a troll than say that to Baz. (Even if it’s true.) (Damn him.)

“Why, thank you,” she says batting her eyelashes at me teasingly.

Thankfully, a waitress comes over at that moment to take my order, so I’m saved from saying anything _really_ embarrassing. It’s ridiculous how much her presence affects me. And it isn’t just her looks either. It’s her whole demeanor, her confidence, the intelligence that flashes in her stormy eyes... Is this why Agatha finds Baz so irresistible? If so, then how could I fault her for that, when I myself am falling victim to his charm?

Merlin, I’m so screwed.

**BAZ**

We continue to chat about one thing or another and it’s nice, but Snow is acting a little weird. One moment he looks completely taken with me, and the next he looks frustrated, like I did something to offend him or something. I’m not sure what to make of that and I fear that he might have regretted going out on a date with me. Which is a depressing thought. It’s one thing for him to hate me when I’m Baz Pitch, a vampire and a _boy_ , and another when such things aren’t in the way.

Where did I go wrong? Should I have acted like Wellbelove, all innocent and pure, to get his affections? The thought had crossed my mind before I put my plan on motion, but I dismissed it. I didn’t just want Snow to kiss me. I wanted him to like me for who I am, without alliances and genders getting in the way.

My now sullen mood must have showed on my face, because Snow suddenly frowns. “Is something wrong?”

I shake my head and smile. “Nothing, I’m fine. I was just wondering...” Well, here goes nothing. “You haven’t regretted going out on a date with me, have you?”

His eyes widen in surprise and... dread? “Well...” he says nervously. My heart sinks. “It’s just... I’ve been thinking.”

 _Well, that’s a first,_ I almost say, but thankfully I hold back. Years of goading Snow are hard to quell . “Yes?”

“Well, you know... About what you said that night.”

“About what?”

“About... well. _Baz._ ”

Okay, this is not the direction I thought this conversation would go. “What about Baz?”

He turns his gaze downwards, like he’s too ashamed to look at me. “Remember what you said to me? When I couldn’t stop talking about him?”

“Uh, that you’re obsessed with him?” I say nervously. I have no idea where this is going and I’m filled with dread.

Simon nods, his eyes still downcast and there’s color flooding his cheeks. “Yeah, that. You see, it got me thinking... And, well... I think you might have been right. About. You know.”

My jaw drops.

_What?_

“About what?” I ask carefully, certain that I misunderstood. He can’t have meant what I think he meant. It’s preposterous. _(Right?)_

Simon takes a deep breath and manages to look into my eyes. “I think I might have a thing for him.”

**SIMON**

I watch her face intently, gauging her reaction. Her expression is completely blank. Not _I’m-very-good-at-masking-my-emotions_ blank. It’s more like, _the-world-stopped-making-sense-and-I-have-no-idea-what-to-think_ blank.

It’s so satisfying.

**BAZ**

I’m just staring at him for a few moments, trying to process _what the hell just happened_.

And then it hits me.

_He knows!_

There’s no other explanation. He knows it’s me and he’s trying to confuse me into admitting it.

_Fuck!_

Now what?

How the hell am I going to get out of this?

_I’m so screwed._

**SIMON**

Her eyes widen minutely, but then she manages to school her expression and she lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting _that_. I mean, wow. This is messed up.”

“It is, isn’t it?” I say awkwardly.

“Yeah, a little, but. Well. Who am I to judge? The heart wants what the heart wants, right?”

I resist the urge to narrow my eyes at her. Okay, so Baz wasn’t entirely thrown by that – at least not enough to betray something incriminating. Whatever. Let’s see for how long he can play along.

“I guess.” I laugh nervously. “So, what I meant to say was, I’m sorry for dragging you out here today. I didn’t mean to... You know... Lead you on.”

“Pfft,” she says, waving her hand dismissively. “Think nothing of it. I mean, sure, I like you, and I had a very good time with you the other day, but what can you do about it?” She shrugs and crosses her legs. “So, what are you going to do now? Will you make a move on him?”

“Um, I don’t know... What if he makes fun of me?”

She arches a perfect eyebrow. “Oh, come on now. You are the legendary Chosen One. You’ve slain _dragons_. _Surely_ you’re not afraid of a little heartbreak?”

The challenge is obvious in her eyes and her raised eyebrow. She’s calling my bluff.

I clench my fists. I am not backing down.

“You know what, you’re right,” I say with determination. “I’ll just go for it. What do I have to lose, right?”

“Are you sure?” she says, tilting her head to the side. “You won’t get cold feet?”

 _“No,”_ I say, a little too strongly, but I catch myself. I add more calmly. “Want to bet on it?”

**BAZ**

My eyes narrow. “Bet on what?”

“That I will make a move by tomorrow.”

This is not going to end well. Neither of us is backing down and we’re hurtling towards a catastrophe. But if I yield, I might as well I admit what I did. But _then_ I’ll have to explain _why_ I did it, which I can’t do.

So I play along. “Sure, but what kind of move are we talking about?”

He scrunches his eyebrows at me. “What do you mean?”

I shrug. “A move could also be a compliment or sending an anonymous love letter to him, neither of which is daring enough to call for a bet.”

Snow narrows his eyes at me. He knows what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to make him give up. But Snow is way to stubborn to back down.

**SIMON**

“Alright,” I say. “How about a kiss? Does _that_ call for a bet?”

She seems to lose her nerve for a moment there. But then her resolve is back and she crosses her arms. “Yeah, but not just any kiss. It has to be on the mouth.” She smirks at me. “Are you up for _that_ , Snow?”

_Fuck you._

“Of course,” I say with a smile.

“But how will I know that you’ve done it? You could lie to me.”

“You can call him tomorrow and I ask him if I went through with it.”

“Hmm... And what exactly do you get if you win the bet?”

“The truth.”

She blinks, as if confused. “What truth?”

I shrug, grinning. “Just the truth.”

She regards me for a few moments before she shrugs. “A little vague, but okay. And what do I get if you chicken out?”

 “What do you want?” I ask.

“Hmm...” She thinks about it for a few moments before she smirks at me. “The truth, I suppose.”

“The truth about what?”

She shrugs, her smirk widening. “Just the truth.”

I bite my tongue to stop myself from answering the way I want to. “Fine.” I extend my hand at her. “Shake on it?”

**BAZ**

This is going to be a disaster.

I take his hand and shake it. “You’re on.”

**SIMON**

I keep pacing up and down our room. It’s almost ten, but Baz hasn’t shown. Maybe he’s waiting for the potion to wear off. Or maybe _he_ got cold feet.

I huff. _Figures_.

The thing is, I kind of wish he won’t come. I know I shouldn’t be – _he_ is the one put on the spot for his schemes, _not_ me – but I am terribly nervous. Wariness and dread are coiling and twisting in my stomach, so much that I’m not even hungry. (I’m _always_ hungry.)

Maybe I should have just confronted him instead of trying to shake him into admitting what he did. I mean, what did I expect? Baz is _unshakable_. He wouldn’t just bend at the first sign of pressure and start apologizing profusely for his lies .

But still, I didn’t expect him to go _that_ far. Whatever he’s hiding must be quite a secret if he’s willing to go to such lengths to protect it. I mean, _a kiss_?

To be fair, I didn’t expect _I_ would go that far, either, but Baz has a gift for making me go to extremes. He’s just _so aggravating_. And, somehow, even more so when he’s wearing Ella’s face, looking so fucking _irresistible._ Though, even his own pretty face is bad enough...

_...Ugh!_

God, I’m so confused.

And nervous, did I mention nervous?

Now I kind of wish he was here, so that this would be over and done with. This waiting is _killing_ me.

**BAZ**

Oh, god, what am I going to do?

_What was he thinking agreeing to this?_

... _Surely_ , he’s not going to go through with it though?

There’s no fucking way he’ll _actually_ do it, right?

_Right?_

**SIMON**

It’s nearing midnight when the door finally opens.

I pause in my nervous pacing and look up. Baz comes in the room, looking composed and unruffled as always. My nerves start twisting into knots again, even more tightly than before. It doesn’t help that he’s actually wearing _jeans_ , for crying out loud. _Really nice fitting_ jeans, no less.

_Crowley, I hate you so much._

Some of my thoughts must have shown on my face, because he frowns at me. “What?”

“Where were you?” I don’t bother to hide the annoyance in my voice.

“Um, none of your business?” he says haughtily before he shuts the door and makes his way to his bed, deliberately bumping into my shoulder in the process.

_Jerk._

I turn around and glare at him as he leisurely sits on the bed and raises an eyebrow at me. “Spit it out, Snow. What do you want?”

I huff and shake my head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“ _I_ am unbelievable?” he sneers. “You’re the one acting like a prick for no apparent reason.”

 _“Whatever.”_ I sit on my own bed and stew for a little while. Hopefully Baz will stop acting like a jerk and I’ll be able to calm down enough to make my move.

No such luck.

“So,” says Baz with mocking interest, half-lying on his bed so that he’s supported on his elbows. “How did your big date go?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “How do you know about my date?”

He shrugs a little, looking completely unruffled and vaguely amused. “Ella called, she told me,” he says. Then he frowns a little – probably for show. “She also said she would call me tomorrow to check up on something. Do you have any idea what would that be about?”

_Like you don’t know._

“I have no idea,” I manage to say without gritting my teeth.

“Hmm,” hummed Baz, unconvinced.

Neither of us talk for a while, and I manage to rein in my anger. After a few more moments, I stand up and cross the small space between our beds so that I’m looming over him.

“Actually,” I say, feeling my heart hammering in my chest, “there’s something I wanted to do.”

He actually seems a little caught off guard at that for a moment, but then he smooths out his expression into something more aloof. “And what would that be?”

_Oh, god._

Alright. Here it goes.

Before he can protest, I kneel on his bed and straddle his legs. Suddenly, his blank expression loses its cool  and he looks a little cornered. “...What are you doing?”

“Shh shh,” I say, putting a finger on his lips to shush him. If he looked spooked before, now he’s downright terrified. I would have felt more triumphant about that if I wasn’t feeling just as nervous.

...He actually looks kind of nice like this. More human. And his slightly rose tinted cheeks remind me a little of Ella in her most irresistible moments – back when we were laughing and dancing like idiots in front of the whole school. _God_ , was she beautiful then. She’d been beautiful before, but at that moment... I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that she looked _happy_ that made her look so breathtaking? I have no idea.

Had Baz been actually happy at that moment? That part, at least, hadn’t looked like an act.

...And truth be told, neither had the conversations we’d had. He hadn’t been acting that much differently than usual. Yes, the edges had been a little smoothed down, but really, he’d been just as witty, sarcastic, confident and charming as always. He hadn’t tried to look sweet or innocent or coy to pull me in. He’d just been flirting in his very own way.

And then I remember what had happened a little later, when I found him in the Catacombs. At that moment, I _know_ he hadn’t been acting. He thought he was alone. His excitement must have been genuine. And it wasn’t the kind of excitement villains feel when their nefarious plans are playing down exactly as they should. It was the kind of excitement _I’d_ been feeling.

...Could it be...?

And suddenly, my heart isn’t pounding so fast because of fear and nervousness, but because of anticipation and... _longing_?

I shut down all lines of thought immediately. This is no the time for thinking. This is the time for _acting_.

I lunge forward, replacing my finger on his mouth with my lips.

**BAZ**

He.

Actually.

_Did it._

**SIMON**

He tenses in surprise, but only for a moment. Then his mouth melds into mine, pushing back at me demandingly and my heart starts soaring.

_Oh, god._

Nothing has ever felt this good.

My fingers tangle in his hair as I experimentally prod my tongue on his lips. He gets the message and opens his mouth to grant me entrance. Our tongues intertwine and we both make sounds at the back of our throats, and nothing about them is fake.

_Crowley._

This is not what I had in mind when I suggested the bet.

_Totally worth it._

**BAZ**

Merlin, he’s killing me. And I love it.

_I love him._

**SIMON**

I’ve lost track of how much time we’ve been snogging. It could be hours or days or weeks. (Probably not weeks. At least one of us would have died from starvation.) I don’t really care. I have officially stopped thinking and it’s amazing. I never want it to stop.

But I guess we would have to break apart _at some point_ , if only to breathe for a little while.

We’re both quite breathless when that happens and more than a little dazed. And, _god_ , he looks so beautiful at the moment, with hazy eyes and flushed cheeks. It makes me want to kiss him again. (Fuck breathing.) It also makes me want to tease him a bit.

“So, I guess I won the bet,” I say with a mischievous smile.

If I expected him to get flustered, I was disappointed. He just raised an eyebrow at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, you do. Come on,” I nudge him, “fess up. You promised me the truth.”

He looks at me for a few moments. Then he sighs heavily and drops his head back on the pillow. All of a sudden, he looks extremely tired. “What truth?”

“You know what truth,” I persist, serious now myself. “About Ella.”

Baz closes his eyes, like he can’t bear to look at me. “You know the truth,” he whispers.

“Yeah, but...” I brush a strand of inky black hair away from his face. “Why? Why did you go to all that trouble?”

“Because I wanted to see if I’d stand I chance,” he says quietly. “If I wasn’t a Pitch... A vampire...”

“A boy?” I supply softly.

He nods, still not opening his eyes.

I smile and kiss him once, gently. His eyes flutter open in bewilderment. “I don’t really mind that you’re a boy,” I say.

“...But you mind the rest?” he guesses.

I bite my lip. The vampire thing could be a little off-putting. “You haven’t... You know. Fed on anything other than rats and squirrels?”

He arches a defiant eyebrow. “I’ve killed deer, too.”

 _“Baz,”_ I insist. “You know what I mean.”

“ _Of course_ I haven’t killed humans, Snow!” he snaps, sounding genuinely upset. “I’m not a fucking murderer.”

Somehow, I believe him.

“Well,” I tease him, “that’s what a murderer would say.”

He rolls his eyes, thoroughly unimpressed. “You caught me, Snow,” he sneers. “I’m a bloody killing machine. Take out your sword and rid the world from this monster.”

“Wow, you’re touchy,” I remark playfully.

He rolls his eyes again, but the corners of his mouth are quirking up. “Shut up.”

“Mmm,” I say, letting my head rest on his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around me. _This is nice._ “Well, if you _weren’t_ a killing machine, I wouldn’t mind you being a vampire.”

He snorts. “You don’t mind me being an undead blood-sucking freak?”

“Nah,” I say dismissively. “Haven’t you heard? Vampires are all the rage nowadays.”

Baz looks thrown by the fact that I’m taking this so lightly. Then he bursts out laughing. “You’re an idiot, Snow.”

“Well, _you_ don’t seem to mind that.”

He kisses the top of my head. “No, I guess I don’t.” He pauses. “What about the last part?”

I frown. “You mean the _Pitch_ part?”

“Yeah.”

I think about it. “I can’t say that it isn’t a problem, but...”

“But what?”

“But we’ll work it out.”

“Work it out?” he says incredulously. “You mean work out a drawn-out civil war with us on opposite sides?”

It’s not easy because of the way I’m lying on Baz, but I manage to shrug. “I’m the Chosen One, aren’t I?”

He huffs. “Yes, Snow, the _Chosen One_ , not _God_. You can’t work miracles.”

I smile cheekily. “I can try.”


End file.
